We shall hope to secure a strong staff of young men, appointing them because they have twenty years before them; selecting them on evidence of their ability; increasing constantly their emoluments, and promoting them because of their merit to successive posts, as scholars, fellows, assistants, adjuncts, professors and university professors. This plan will give us an opportunity to introduce some of the features of the English fellowship and the German system of privat-docents; or in other words, to furnish positions where young men desirous of a university career may have a chance to begin, sure at least of a support while waiting for promotion.

Our plans begin but do not end here. As men of distinction, who have won the highest rank in their callings, are known to be free, we shall invite them to come among us.

If we would maintain a university, great freedom must be allowed both to teachers and scholars. This involves freedom of methods to be employed by the instructors on the one hand, and on the other, freedom of courses to be selected by the students.

But this freedom is based on laws,—two of which cannot be too distinctly or too often enunciated. A law which should govern the admission of pupils is this, that before they win this privilege they must have been matured by the long, preparatory discipline of superior teachers, and by the systematic, laborious, and persistent pursuit of fundamental knowledge; and a second law, which should govern the work of professors, is this, that with unselfish devotion to the discovery and advancement of truth and righteousness, they renounce all other preferment, so that, like the greatest of all teachers, they may promote the good of mankind.

I see no advantage in our attempting to maintain the traditional four-year class-system of the American colleges. It has never existed in the University of Virginia; it is modified, though not nominally given up at Harvard; it is not an important characteristic of Michigan and Cornell; it is not known in the English, French or German universities. It is a collegiate rather than a university method. If parents or students desire us to mark out prescribed courses, either classical or scientific, lasting four years, it will be easy to do so. But I apprehend that many students will come to us excellent in some branches of a liberal education and deficient in others—good perhaps in Greek, Latin and mathematics; deficient in chemistry, physics, zoology, history, political economy, and other progressive sciences. I would give to such candidates on examination, credit for their attainments, and assign them in each study the place for which they are fitted. A proficient in Plato may be a tyro in Euclid. Moreover, I would make attainments rather than time the condition of promotion; and I would encourage every scholar to go forward rapidly or go forward slowly, according to the fleetness of his foot and his freedom from impediment. In other words, I would have our University seek the good of individuals rather than of classes.

The sphere of a university is sometimes restricted by its walls or is limited to those who are enrolled on its lists. There are three particulars in which we shall aim at extramural influence: first, as an examining body, ready to examine and confer degrees or other academic honors on those who are trained elsewhere; next, as a teaching body, by opening to educated persons (whether enrolled as students or not) such lectures as they may wish to attend, under certain restrictions—on the plan of the lectures in the high seminaries of Paris; and, finally, as in some degree at least a publishing body, by encouraging professors and lecturers to give to the world in print the results of their researches.

What are we aiming at?

An enduring foundation; a slow development; first local, then regional, then national influence; the most liberal promotion of all useful knowledge; the special provision of such departments as are elsewhere neglected in the country; a generous affiliation with all other institutions, avoiding interferences, and engaging in no rivalry; the encouragement of research; the promotion of young men; and the advancement of individual scholars, who by their excellence will advance the sciences they pursue, and the society where they dwell.

No words could indicate our aim more fitly than those by which John Henry Newman expresses his "Idea of the University," in a page glowing with enthusiasm, to which I delight to revert.

What will be our agencies?

A large staff of teachers; abundance of instruments, apparatus, diagrams, books, and other means of research and instruction; good laboratories, with all the requisite facilities; accessory influences, coming both from Baltimore and Washington; funds so unrestricted, charter so free, schemes so elastic, that as the world goes forward, our plans will be adjusted to its new requirements.

What will be our methods?

Liberal advanced instruction for those who want it; distinctive honors for those who win them; appointed courses for those who need them; special courses for those who can take no other; a combination of lectures, recitations, laboratory practice, field work and private instruction; the largest discretion allowed to the Faculty consistent with the purposes in view; and, finally, an appeal to the community to increase our means, to strengthen our hands, to supplement our deficiencies, and especially to surround our scholars with those social, domestic and religious influences which a corporation can at best imperfectly provide, but which may be abundantly enjoyed in the homes, the churches and the private associations of an enlightened Christian city.

Citizens of Baltimore and Maryland.—This great undertaking does not rest upon the Trustees alone; the whole community has a share in it. However strong our purposes, they will be modified, inevitably, by the opinions of enlightened men; so let parents and teachers incite the youth of this commonwealth to high aspirations; let wise and judicious counsellors continue their helpful suggestions, sure of being heard with grateful consideration; let skilful writers, avoiding captionsness on the one hand and compliment on the other, uphold or refute or amend the tenets here announced; let the guardians of the press diffuse widely a knowledge of the benefits which are here provided; let men of means largely increase the usefulness of this work by their timely gifts.

At the moment there is nothing which seems to me so important, in this region, and indeed in the entire land, as the promotion of good secondary schools, preparatory to the universities. There are old foundations in Maryland which require to be made strong, and there is room for newer enterprises, of various forms. Every large town should have an efficient academy or high school; and men of wealth can do no greater service to the public than by liberally encouraging, in their various places of abode, the advanced instruction of the young. None can estimate too highly the good which came to England from the endowment of Lawrence Sheriff at Rugby, and of Queen Elizabeth's school at Westminster, or the value to New England of the Phillips foundations in Exeter and And over.

Every contribution made by others to this new University will enable the Trustees to administer with greater liberality their present funds. Special foundations may be affiliated with our trust, for the encouragement of particular branches of knowledge, for the reward of merit, for the construction of buildings; and each gift, like the new recruits of an army, will be more efficient because of the place it takes in an organized and efficient company. It is a great satisfaction in this world of changes and pecuniary loss to remember what safe investments have been made at Harvard and Yale, and other old colleges, where dollar for dollar is still shown for every gift.

The atmosphere of Maryland seems favorable to such deeds of piety, hospitality and "good-will to men." George Calvert, the first Lord Baltimore, comes here, returns to England and draws up a charter which becomes memorable in the annals of civil and religious liberty, for which, "he deserves to be ranked," (as Bancroft says), "among the most wise and benevolent lawgivers of all ages;" among the liberals of 1776 none was bolder than Charles Carroll of Carrollton; John Eager Howard, the hero of Cowpens, is almost equally worthy of gratitude for the liberality of his public gifts; John McDonogh, of Baltimore birth, bestows his fortune upon two cities for the instruction of their youth; George Peabody, resident here in early life, comes back in old age to endow an Athenaeum, and begins that outpouring of munificence which gives him a noble rank among modern philanthropists; Moses Sheppard bequeaths more than half a million for the relief of mental disease; Rinehart, the teamster boy, attains distinction as a sculptor, and bequeaths his hard-won acquisitions for the encouragement of art in the city of his residence; and a Baltimorean still living, provides for the foundation of an astronomical observatory in Yale College; while Johns Hopkins lays a foundation for learning and charity, which we celebrate to-day.

The closing sentences of the discourse were addressed to the young men of Baltimore and to the Trustees.

THE FACULTY.

One of the earliest duties which devolved upon the President and Trustees, after deciding upon the general scope of the University, was to select a staff of teachers by whose assistance and counsel the details of the plan should be worked out. It would hardly be right in this place to recall the distinctive merits of the able and learned scholars who have formed the academic staff during the first fourteen years, but perhaps the writer may be allowed to pay in passing a tribute of gratitude and respect to those who entered the service of the University at its beginning. To their suggestions, their enthusiasm, their learning, and above all their freedom from selfish aims and from petty jealousies, must be attributed in a great degree the early distinction of this institution. They came from widely distant places; they had been trained by widely different methods; they had widely different intellectual aptitudes; but their diversities were unified by their devotion to the university in which they were enlisted, and by their desire to promote its excellence. This spirit has continued till the present time, and has descended to those who have from time to time joined the ranks, so that it may be emphatically said that the union of the Faculty has been the key to its influence.

The first requisite of success in any institution is a staff of eminent teachers, each of whom gives freely the best of which he is capable. The best varies with the individual; one may be an admirable lecturer or teacher; another a profound thinker; a third a keen investigator; another a skilful experimenter; the next, a man of great acquisitions; one may excel by his industry, another by his enthusiasm, another by his learning, another by his genius; but every member of a faculty should be distinguished by some uncommon attainments and by some special aptitudes, while the faculty as a whole should be united and cooperative. Each professor, according to his subject and his talents, should have his own best mode of working, adjusted to and controlled by the exigencies of the institution with which he is associated.

The original professors, who were present when instructions began in October, 1876, were these: as the head and guide of the mathematical studies, Professor Sylvester, of Cambridge, Woolwich and London, one of the foremost of European mathematicians; as the leader of classical studies, Professor Gildersleeve, then of the University of Virginia; as director of the Chemical Laboratory and of instruction in chemistry, Professor Remsen, then of Williams College; to organize the work in Biology (a department then scarcely known in American institutions, but here regarded as of great importance with reference to the future school of medicine), Professor Martin, then of Cambridge (Eng.), a pupil of Professor Michael Foster and of Professor Huxley; as chief in the department of Physics, Professor Rowland, then holding a subordinate position in the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, whose ability in this department had been shown by the contributions he had made to scientific journals; and as collegiate professor, or guide to the undergraduate students, Professor Charles D. Morris, once an Oxford fellow, and then of the University of the City of New York.

The names of the professors in the Faculty of Philosophy, from 1876 to 1890, are as follows, arranged in the order of their appointment:

1876 BASIL L. GILDERSLEEVE, LL. D Greek. 1876 J.J. SYLVESTER, LL. D Mathematics. 1876 IRA KEMSEN, Ph. D Chemistry. 1876 HENRY A. ROWLAND, Ph. D Physics. 1876 H. NEWELL MARTIN, Sc. D Biology. 1876 CHARLES D. MORRIS, A. M Classics, (Collegiate). 1883 PAUL HAUPT, Ph. D Semitic Languages. 1884 G. STANLEY HALL, LL. D Psychology. 1884 WILLIAM H. WELCH, M. D Pathology. 1884 SIMON NEWCOMB, LL. D Mathematics and Astronomy. 1886 JOHN H. WRIGHT, A.M Classical Philology. 1889 EDWARD H. GRIFFIN, LL.D History of Philosophy. 1891 HERBERT B. ADAMS, Ph.D Amer. and Inst. History. 1891 WILLIAM K. BROOKS, Ph.D Animal Morphology.

The persons below named have been appointed associate professors,—and their names are arranged in the order of their appointment:

1883 HERBERT B. ADAMS, Ph.D History. 1883 MAURICE BLOOMFIELD, Ph.D Sanskrit and Comp. Philology. 1883 WILLIAM K. BROOKS, Ph.D Animal Morphology. 1883 THOMAS CRAIG, Ph.D Mathematics. 1883 CHARLES S. HASTINGS, Ph.D Physics. 1883 HARMON N. MORSE, Ph.D Chemistry. 1883 WILLIAM E. STORY, Ph.D Mathematics. 1883 MINTON WARREN, Ph.D Latin. 1884 A. MARSHALL ELLIOT, Ph.D Romance Languages. 1884 J. RENDEL HARRIS, A.M New Testament Greek. 1885 GEORGE H. EMMOTT, A.M Logic. 1885 C. RENE GREGORY, Ph.D New Testament Greek. 1885 GEORGE H. WILLIAMS, Ph.D Inorganic Geology. 1885 HENRY WOOD, Ph.D German. 1887 RICHARD T. ELY, Ph.D Political Economy. 1888 WILLIAM T. COUNCILMAN, M.D Anatomy. 1888 WILLIAM H. HOWELL, Ph.D Animal Physiology. 1888 ARTHUR L. KIMBALL, Ph.D Physics. 1888 EDWARD H. SPIEKER, Ph.D Greek and Latin. 1889 Louis DUNCAN, Ph.D Electricity. 1889 FABIAN FRANKLIN, Ph.D Mathematics.

At the opening of the Johns Hopkins Hospital, the principal physicians and surgeons of that foundation were appointed professors of the University, namely, arranged in the order of their appointment:

1889 WILLIAM OSLER, M.D Medicine. 1889 HENRY M. HURD, M.D Psychiatry. 1889 HOWARD A. KELLY, M.D Gynecology. 1889 WILLIAM S. HALSTED, M.D Surgery.

In selecting a staff of teachers, the Trustees have endeavored to consider especially the devotion of the candidate to some particular line of study and the certainty of his eminence in that specialty; the power to pursue independent and original investigation, and to inspire the young with enthusiasm for study and research; the willingness to cooeperate in building up a new institution; and the freedom from tendencies toward ecclesiastical or sectional controversies. They announced that they would not be governed by denominational or geographical considerations in the appointment of any teacher; but would endeavor to select the best person whose services they could secure in the position to be filled,—irrespective of the place where he was born, or the college in which he was trained, or the religious body with which he might be enrolled.

It is obvious that in addition to the qualifications above mentioned, regard has always been paid to those personal characteristics which cannot be rigorously defined, but which cannot be overlooked if the ethical as well as the intellectual character of a professorial station is considered, and if the social relations of a teacher to his colleagues, his pupils, and their friends, are to be harmoniously maintained. The professor in a university teaches as much by his example as by his precepts.

Besides the resident professors, it has been the policy of the University to enlist from time to time the services of distinguished scholars as lecturers on those subjects to which their studies have been particularly directed. During the first few years the number of such lecturers was larger, and the duration of their visits was longer than it has been recently. When the faculty was small, the need of the occasional lecturer was more apparent for obvious reasons, than it has been in later days. Still the University continues to invite the cooperation of non-resident professors, and the proximity of Baltimore to Washington makes it particularly easy to engage learned gentlemen from the capital to give occasional lectures upon their favorite studies. Recently a lectureship of Poetry has been founded by Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull of Baltimore, in memory of a son who is no longer living, and an annual course may be expected from writers of distinction who are known either as poets, or as critics, or as historians of poetry. The first lecturer on this foundation will be Mr. E.C. Stedman, of New York, the second, Professor Jebb, of Cambridge (Eng.). Another lectureship has been instituted by Mr. Eugene Levering with the object of promoting the purposes of the Young Men's Christian Association. The first lecturer on this foundation was Rev. Dr. Broadus, of Louisville, Ky.

A few of those who held the position of lecturers made Baltimore their home for such prolonged periods that they could not properly be called non-resident. The following list contains the principal appointments. It might be much enlarged by naming those persons who have lectured at the request of one department of the University and not of the Trustees, and by naming some who gave but single lectures.

1876 SIMON NEWCOMB Astronomy. 1876 LEONCE RABILLON French. 1877 JOHN S. BILLINGS Medical History, etc. 1877 FRANCIS J. CHILD English Literature, 1877 THOMAS M. COOLEY Law. 1877 JULIUS E. HILGARD Geodetic Surveys. 1877 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL Romance Literature. 1877 JOHN W. MALLET Technological Chemistry. 1877 FRANCIS A. WALKER Political Economy. 1877 WILLIAM D. WHITNEY Comparative Philology. 1878 WILLIAM F. ALLEN History. 1878 WILLIAM JAMES Psychology. 1878 GEORGE S. MORRIS History of Philosophy. 1879 J. LEWIS DIMAN History. 1879 H. VON HOLST History. 1879 WILLIAM G. FARLOW Botany. 1879 J. WILLARD GIBBS Theoretical Mechanics. 1879 SIDNEY LANIER English Literature. 1879 CHARLES S. PEIRCE Logic. 1880 JOHN TROWBRIDGE Physics. 1881 A. GRAHAM BELL Phonology. 1881 S.P. LANGLEY Physics. 1881 JOHN McCRADY Biology. 1881 JAMES BRYCE Political Science. 1881 EDWARD A. FREEMAN History. 1881 JOHN J. KNOX Banking. 1882 ARTHUR CAYLEY Mathematics. 1882 WILLIAM W. GOODWIN Plato. 1882 G. STANLEY HALL Psychology. 1882 RICHARD M. VENABLE Constitutional Law. 1882 JAMES A. HARRISON Anglo-Saxon. 1882 J. RENDEL HARRIS New Testament Greek. 1883 GEORGE W. CABLE English Literature. 1883 WILLIAM W. STORY Michel Angela. 1883 HIRAM CORSON English Literature. 1883 F. SEYMOUR HADEN Etchers and Etching. 1883 JOHN S. BILLINGS Municipal Hygiene. 1883 JAMES BRYCE Roman Law. 1883 H. VON HOLST Political Science. 1884 WILLIAM TRELEASE Botany. 1884 J. THACHER CLARKE Explorations in Assos. 1884 JOSIAH ROYCE Philosophy. 1884 WILLIAM J. STILLMAN Archaeology. 1884 CHARLES WALDSTEIN Archaeology. 1884 SIR WILLIAM THOMSON Molecular Dynamics. 1885 A. MELVILLE BELL Phonetics, etc. 1885 EDMUND GOSSE English Literature. 1885 EUGENE SCHUYLER U.S. Diplomacy. 1885 JUSTIN WINSOR Shakespeare. 1885 FREDERICK WEDMORE Modern Art. 1886 ISAAC H. HALL New Testament. 1886 WILLIAM HAYES WARD Assyria. 1886 WILLIAM LIBBEY, JR Alaska. 1886 ALFRED R. WALLACE Island Life. 1886 MANDELL CREIGHTON Rise of European Universities. 1887 ARTHUR L. FROTHINGHAM, JR Babylonian and Assyrian Art. 1887 RODOLFO LANCIANI Roman Archaeology. 1888 ANDREW D. WHITE The French Revolution. 1890 JOHN A. BROADUS Origin of Christianity.

The number of associates, readers, and assistants has been very large, most such appointments having been made for brief periods among young men of promise looking forward to preferment in this institution or elsewhere.

DISTINCTION BETWEEN COLLEGIATE AND UNIVERSITY COURSES.

From the opening of the University until now a sharp distinction has been made between the methods of university instruction and those of collegiate instruction. In the third annual report, September 1, 1878, the views which had been announced at the opening of the University are expanded and are illustrated by the action of the Trustees and the Faculty during the first two years.

The terms university and college have been so frequently interchanged in this country that their significance is liable to be confounded; and it may be worth while, once more at least, to call attention to the distinction which is recognized among us. By the college is understood a place for the orderly training of youth in those elements of learning which should underlie all liberal and professional culture. The ordinary conclusion of a college course is the Bachelor's degree. Usually, but not necessarily, the college provides for the ecclesiastical and religious as well as the intellectual training of its scholars. Its scheme admits but little choice. Frequent daily drill in languages, mathematics, and science, with compulsory attendance and frequent formal examinations, is the discipline to which each student is submitted. This work is simple, methodical, and comparatively inexpensive. It is understood and appreciated in every part of this country.

In the university more advanced and special instruction is given to those who have already received a college training or its equivalent, and who now desire to concentrate their attention upon special departments of learning and research. Libraries, laboratories, and apparatus require to be liberally provided and maintained. The holders of professorial chairs must be expected and encouraged to advance by positive researches the sciences to which they are devoted; and arrangements must be made in some way to publish and bring before the criticism of the world the results of such investigations. Primarily, instruction is the duty of the professor in a university as it is in a college; but university students should be so mature and so well trained as to exact from their teachers the most advanced instruction, and even to quicken and inspire by their appreciative responses the new investigations which their professors undertake. Such work is costly and complex; it varies with time, place, and teacher; it is always somewhat remote from popular sympathy, and liable to be depreciated by the ignorant and thoughtless. But it is by the influence of universities, with their comprehensive libraries, their costly instruments, their stimulating associations and helpful criticisms, and especially their great professors, indifferent to popular applause, superior to authoritative dicta, devoted to the discovery and revelation of truth, that knowledge has been promoted, and society released from the fetters of superstition and the trammels of ignorance, ever since the revival of letters.

In further exposition of these views, from men of different pursuits, reference should be made to an article on Classics and Colleges, by Professor Gildersleeve (Princeton Review, July, 1878), lately reprinted in the author's "Essays and Studies," (Baltimore, 1890); to an address by Professor Sylvester before the University on "Mathematical Studies and University Life," (February 22, 1877); to an address by Professor Martin on the study of Biology (Popular Science Monthly, January, 1877); to some remarks on the study of Chemistry by Professor Remsen (Popular Science Monthly, April, 1877); and to an address entitled "A Plea for Pure Science" (Salem, 1883), by Professor Rowland, as a Vice-President of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Although of a much later date, reference should also be made to an address by Professor Adams (February 22, 1889) on the work of the Johns Hopkins University, printed in the Johns Hopkins University Circulars, No. 71. An address by Dr. James Carey Thomas, one of the Trustees, at the tenth anniversary, in 1886, may also be consulted (Ibid. No. 50). Reference may also be made to the fifteen annual reports of the University and to the articles below named, by the writer of this sketch. The Group System of College Courses in the Johns Hopkins University (Andover Review, June, 1886); The Benefits which Society derives from Universities: Annual Address on Commemoration Day, 1885 (Johns Hopkins University Circulars, No. 37); article on Universities in Lalor's Cyclopaedia of Political Science; an address before the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Harvard University, July 1, 1886; an address at the opening of Bryn Mawr College, 1885.

STUDENTS, COURSES OF STUDIES, AND DEGREES.

In accordance with the plans thus formulated, the students have included those who have already taken an academic degree, and who have here engaged in advanced studies; those who have entered as candidates for the Bachelors' degree; and those who have pursued special courses without reference to degrees. The whole number of persons enrolled in these three classes during the first fourteen years (1876-1890) is fifteen hundred and seventy-one. Seven hundred and three persons have pursued undergraduate courses and nine hundred and two have followed graduate studies. Many of those who entered as undergraduates have continued as graduates, and have proceeded to the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. These students have come from nearly every State in the Union, and not a few of them have come from foreign lands. Many of those who received degrees before coming here were graduates of the principal institutions of this country. The degree of Doctor of Philosophy has been awarded after three years or more of graduate studies to one hundred and eighty-four persons, and that of Bachelor of Arts to two hundred and fifty at the end of their collegiate course.

Two degrees, and two only, have been opened to the students of this University. Believing that the manifold forms in which the baccalaurate degree is conferred are confusing the public, and that they tend to lessen the respect for academic titles, the authorities of the Johns Hopkins University determined to bestow upon all those who complete their collegiate courses the title of Bachelor of Arts. This degree is intended to indicate that its possessor has received a liberal education, or in other words that he has completed a prolonged and systematic course of studies in which languages, mathematics, sciences, history, and philosophy have been included. The amount of time devoted to each of these various subjects varies according to individual needs and preference, but all the combinations are supposed to be equally difficult and honorable. Seven such combinations or groups of studies have been definitely arranged, and "the group system," thus introduced, combines many of the advantages of the elective system, with many of the advantages of a fixed curriculum. The undergraduate has his choice among many different lines of study, but having made this determination he is expected to follow the sequence prescribed for him by his teachers. He may follow the old classical course; or he may give decided preference to mathematics and physics; or he may select a group of studies, antecedent to the studies of a medical school; or he may pursue a scientific course in which chemistry predominates; or he may lay a foundation for the profession of law by the study of history and political science; or he may give to modern languages the preference accorded in the first group to the ancient classics. In making his selection, and indeed in prosecuting the career of an undergraduate, he has the counsel of some member of the faculty who is called his adviser. While each course has its predominant studies, each comprises in addition the study of French and German, and at least one branch of science, usually chemistry or physics, with laboratory exercises.

The degree of Doctor of Philosophy is offered to those who continue their studies in a university for three years or more after having attained the baccalaureate degree. Their attention must be given to studies which are included in the faculty of philosophy and the liberal arts, and not to the professional faculties of Law, Medicine, and Theology. Students who have graduated in other institutions of repute may offer themselves as candidates for this degree. In addition to the requirements above mentioned, the student must show his proficiency in one principal subject and in two that are secondary, and must submit himself to rigid examinations, first written and then oral. He must also present a thesis which must gain the approval of the special committee to which it may be referred, and must subsequently be printed. All these requisitions are enforced by a faculty which is known as the Board of University Studies.

As an encouragement to the systematic prosecution of university studies, the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in this University is offered under the following conditions.

A Board of University Studies is constituted for the purpose of guiding the work of those who may become candidates for this degree. The time of study is a period of at least three years of distinctive university work in the philosophical Faculty. It is desirable that the student accepted as a candidate should reside here continuously until his final examinations are passed, and he is required to spend the last year before he is graduated in definite courses of study at this University. Before he can be accepted as a candidate, he must satisfy the examiners that he has received a good collegiate education, that he has a reading knowledge of French and German, and that he has a good command of literary expression. He must also name his principal subject of study and the two subordinate subjects.

The Board reserves the right to say in each case whether the antecedent training has been satisfactory, and, if any of the years of advanced work have been passed by the candidate away from this University, whether they may be regarded as spent in university studies under suitable guidance and favorable conditions. Such studies must have been pursued without serious distractions and under qualified teachers.

Private study, or study pursued at a distance from libraries and laboratories and other facilities, will not be considered as equivalent to university study.

In the conditions which are stated below, it will appear that there are several tests of the proficiency of the candidate, in addition to the constant observation of his instructors. A carefully prepared thesis must be presented by the candidate on a subject approved by his chief adviser, and this thesis must receive the approbation of the Board. There are private examinations of the candidate, both in his chief subject and in the subordinate subjects. If these tests are successfully passed, there is a final oral examination in the presence of the Board.

As an indication of the possible combinations which may be made by those who are studying for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, the following schedule is presented:

Physics, Mathematics, and Chemistry; Animal Physiology, Animal Morphology, and Chemistry; Chemistry, Mineralogy, and Geology; Mathematics, Astronomy, and Physics; Sanskrit, Greek, and Latin; History, Political Economy, and International Law; Greek, Sanskrit, and Latin; French, Italian and Spanish, and German; Latin, Sanskrit, and Roman Law; Latin, Sanskrit, and German; Assyriology, Ethiopic and Arabic, and Greek; Political Economy, History, and Administration; English, German, and Old Norse; Inorganic Geology and Petrography, Mineralogy, and Chemistry; Geology and Mineralogy, Chemistry, and Physics; Romance Languages, German, and English; Latin, Greek, and Sanskrit; German, English, and Sanskrit.

While students are encouraged to proceed to academic degrees, the authorities have always borne in mind the needs of those who could not, for one reason or another, remain in the university for more than a year or two, and who might wish to prosecute their studies in a particular direction without any reference to academic honors. Such students have always been welcome, especially those who have been mature enough to know their own requirements and to follow their chosen courses, without the incentive of examinations and diplomas.

PUBLICATIONS, SEMINARIES, SOCIETIES.

The Johns Hopkins University has encouraged publication. In addition to the annual Register or Catalogue, the report of the President is annually published, and from time to time during the year "Circulars" are printed, in which the progress of investigations, the proceedings of societies, reports of lectures, and the appearance of books and essays are recorded. Encouragement is also given by the Trustees to the publication of literary and scientific periodicals and occasionally of learned essays and books. The journals regularly issued are:

I. American Journal of Mathematics. S. Newcomb, Editor, and T. Craig, Associate Editor. Quarterly. 4to. Volume XIII in progress.

II. American Chemical Journal. I. Remsen, Editor. 8 nos. yearly. 8vo. Volume XIII in progress.

III. American Journal of Philology. B.L. Gildersleeve, Editor. Quarterly, 8vo. Volume XI in progress.

IV. Studies from the Biological Laboratory. II. N. Martin, Editor, and W.K. Brooks, Associate Editor. 8vo. Volume V in progress.

V. Studies in Historical and Political Science, II. B. Adams, Editor. Monthly. 8vo. Vol. IX in progress.

VI. Contributions to Assyriology, etc. Fr. Delitzsch and Paul Haupt, Editors. Vol. II in progress.

VII. Johns Hopkins University Circulars. 85 numbers issued.

Another form of intellectual activity is shown in the seminaries and scientific associations which have more or less of an official character. In the seminary, the professor engages with a small company of advanced students, in some line of investigation—the results of which, if found important, are often published. The relations of the head of a seminary to those whom he admits to this advanced work, are very close. The younger men have an opportunity of seeing the methods by which older men work. The sources of knowledge, the so-called authorities, are constantly examined. The drift of modern discussions is followed. Investigations, sometimes of a very special character, are carefully prosecuted. All this is done upon a plan, and with the incessant supervision of the director, upon whose learning, enthusiasm, and suggestiveness, the success of the seminary depends. Each such seminary among us has its own collection of books.

The associations or societies serve a different purpose. They bring together larger companies of professors and graduate students, who hear and discuss such papers as the members may present. These papers are not connected by one thread like those which come before the seminaries. They are usually of more general interest, and they often present the results of long continued thought and investigation.

BUILDINGS, LIBRARIES, AND COLLECTIONS.

The site selected when the University was opened in the heart of Baltimore, near the corner of Howard and Monument streets, has proved so convenient, that from time to time additional property in that neighborhood has been secured and the buildings thus purchased have either been modified so as to meet the academic needs, or have given place to new and commodious edifices.

The principal buildings now in use are these:

(1). A central administration building, in which are the class-rooms for classical and oriental studies.

(2). A library building, in which are also rooms devoted especially to history and political science.

(3). A chemical laboratory well equipped for the service of more than a hundred workers.

(4). A biological laboratory, with excellent arrangements for physiological and morphological investigations.

(5). A physical laboratory—the latest and best of the laboratories—with excellent accommodations for physical research and instruction.

(6). A gymnasium for bodily exercise.

(7). Two dwelling houses, appropriated to the collections in mineralogy and geology until a suitable museum and laboratory can be constructed.

(8). Levering Hall, constructed for the uses of the Young Men's Christian Association, and containing a large hall which may be used for general purpeses.

(9). Smaller buildings used for the smaller classes.

(10). An official residence of the President, which came to the University as a part of the bequest of the late John W. McCoy, Esq.

The library of the university numbers nearly 45,000 well selected volumes,—including "the McCoy library" not yet incorporated with the other books, and numbering 8,000 volumes. Not far from 1,000 periodicals are received, from every part of the civilized world. Quite near to the university is the Library of the Peabody Institute, a large, well-chosen, well-arranged, and well-catalogued collection. It numbers more than one hundred thousand volumes.

The university has extensive collections of minerals and fossils, a select zoological and botanical museum, a valuable collection of ancient coins, a remarkable collection of Egyptian antiquities (formed by Col. Mendes I. Cohen, of Baltimore), a bureau of maps and charts, a number of noteworthy autographs and literary manuscripts of modern date, and a large amount of the latest and best scientific apparatus—astronomical, physical, chemical, biological, photographical, and petrographical.

STATISTICS.

Summary of Attendance, 1876-90.

Total Enrolled Years. Teachers. Students. Graduates. Matriculates. Special. 1876-77 29 89 54 12 23 1877-78 34 104 58 24 22 1878-79 25 123 63 25 35 1879-80 33 159 79 32 48 1880-81 39 176 102 37 37 1881-82 43 175 99 45 31 1882-83 41 204 125 49 30 1883-84 49 249 159 53 37 1884-85 52 290 174 69 47 1885-86 49 314 184 96 34 1886-87 51 378 228 108 42 1887-88 57 420 231 127 62 1888-89 55 394 216 129 49 1889-90 58 404 229 130 45 1890-91 64 427 231 142 54

Summary of Attendance, 1876-90 (continued).

Degrees Conferred. Years. A.B. Ph.D. 1876-77 — — 1877-78 — 4 1878-79 3 6 1879-80 16 5 1880-81 12 9 1881-82 15 9 1882-83 10 6 1883-84 23 15 1884-85 9 13 1885-86 31 17 1886-87 24 20 1887-88 34 27 1888-89 36 20 1889-90 37 33 1890-91 — —

TRUSTEES.

It should never be forgotten in considering the history of such a foundation that the ultimate responsibility for its organization and government rests upon the Board of Trustees. If they are enlightened and high-minded men, devoted to the advancement of education, their influence will be felt in every department of instruction. The Johns Hopkins University has been exceptionally favored in this respect. Mr. Hopkins chose the original body with the same sagacity that he showed in all his career as a business man; and as, one by one, vacancies have occurred, men of the same type have been selected, by cooeptation, for these important positions. The names of the Trustees from the beginning are as follows:

*1867 GEORGE WILLIAM BROWN. *1867 GALLOWAY CHESTON. 1867 GEORGE W. DOBBIN. *1867 JOHN FONERDEN. *1867 JOHN W. GARRETT. 1867 CHARLES J.M. GWINN. 1867 LEWIS N. HOPKINS. *1867 WILLIAM HOPKINS. 1867 REVERDY JOHNSON, JR. 1867 FRANCIS T. KING. *1867 THOMAS M. SMITH. 1867 FRANCIS WHITE. 1870 JAMES CAREY THOMAS. 1878 C. MORTON STEWART. 1881 JOSEPH P. ELLIOTT. 1881 J. HALL PLEASANTS. 1881 ALAN P. SMITH. 1886 ROBERT GARRETT. 1891 JAMES L. McLANE.

* Deceased.

Notes supplementary to the Johns Hopkins University Studies in Historical and Political Science, 1891, No. 1.



UNIVERSITY EXTENSION AND THE UNIVERSITY OF THE FUTURE.

THE SUBSTANCE OF ADDRESSES DELIVERED BEFORE THE JOHNS HOPKINS AND OTHER UNIVERSITY AUDIENCES.

BY RICHARD G. MOULTON, A.M.,

Of Cambridge University, England.

I am requested to furnish information with reference to the University Extension Movement in England. It will be desirable that side by side with the facts I should put the ideas of the movement, for, in matters like these, the ideas are the inspiration of the work; the ideas, moreover, are the same for all, whereas the detailed methods must vary with different localities. The idea of the movement is its soul; the practical working is no more than the body. But body and soul alike are subject to growth, and so it has been in the present case. The English University Extension Movement was in no sense a carefully planned scheme, put forward as a feat of institutional symmetry; it was the product of a simple purpose pursued through many years, amid varying external conditions, in which each modification was suggested by circumstances and tested by experience. And with the complexity of our operations our animating ideas have been striking deeper and growing bolder. Speaking then up to date, I would define the root idea of 'University Extension' in the following simple formula: University Education for the Whole Nation organized on a basis of Itinerant Teachers.

But every clause in this defining formula will need explanation and defence.

The term 'University' Extension has no doubt grown up from the circumstance that the movement in England was started and directed by the universities, which have controlled its operations by precisely the same machinery by which they manage every other department of university business. I do not know that this is an essential feature of the movement. The London branch presents an example of a flourishing organization directed by a committee formed for the purpose, though this committee at present acts in concert with three universities. I can conceive the new type of education managed apart from any university superintendence; only I should look upon such severance as a far more serious evil for the universities than for the popular movement.

But I use the term 'university education' for the further purpose of defining the type of instruction offered. It is thus distinguished from school education, being moulded to meet the wants of adults. It is distinguished from the technical training necessary for the higher handicrafts or for the learned professions. It is no doubt to the busy classes that the movement addresses itself, but we make no secret of the fact that our education will not help them in their business, except that, the mind not being built in water-tight compartments, it is impossible to stimulate one set of faculties without the stimulus reacting upon all the rest. The education that is properly associated with universities is not to be regarded as leading up to anything beyond, but is an end in itself, and applies to life as a whole. And the foundation for university extension is a change, subtle but clear, that may be seen to be coming over the attitude of the public mind to higher education, varying in intensity in different localities, but capable of being encouraged where it is least perceptible,—a change by which education is ceasing to be regarded as a thing proper to particular classes of society or particular periods of life, and is coming to be recognized as one of the permanent interests of life, side by side with such universal interests as religion and politics. For persons of leisure and means such growing demand can be met by increased activity of the universities. University Extension is to be the university of the busy.

My definition puts the hope of extending university education in this sense to the whole nation without exception. I am aware that to some minds such indiscriminate extension will seem like an educational communism, on a par with benevolent schemes for redistributing the wealth of society so as to give everybody a comfortable income all round. But it surely ought not to be necessary to explain that in proposing a universal system of education we are not meaning that what each individual draws from the system will be the same in all cases. In this as in every other public benefit that which each person draws from it must depend upon that which he brings to it. University Extension may be conceived as a stream flowing from the high ground of universities through the length and breadth of the country; from this stream each individual helps himself according to his means and his needs; one takes but a cupful, another uses a bucket, a third claims to have a cistern to himself: every one suits his own capacity, while our duty is to see that the stream is pure and that it is kept running.

The truth is that the wide-reaching purpose of University Extension will seem visionary or practicable according to the conception formed of education, as to what in education is essential and what accidental. If I am asked whether I think of shop-assistants, porters, factory-hands, miners, dock or agricultural laborers, women with families and constant home duties, as classes of people who can be turned into economists, physicists, literary critics, art connoisseurs,—I admit that I have no such idea. But I do believe, or rather, from my experience in England I know, that all such classes can be interested in economic, scientific, literary and artistic questions. And I say boldly that to interest in intellectual pursuits is the essential of education, in comparison with which all other educational purposes must be called secondary. I do not consider that a child has been taught to read unless he has been made to like reading; I find it difficult to think of a man as having received a classical education if the man, however scholarly, leaves college with no interest in classical literature such as will lead him to go on reading for himself. In education the interest is the life. If a system of instruction gives discipline, method, and even originating power, without rousing a lasting love for the subject studied, the whole process is but a mental galvanism, generating a delusive activity that ceases when the connection between instructor and pupil is broken off. But if a teacher makes it his first business to stir up an interest in the matter of study, the education becomes self-continuing when teacher and pupil have parted, and the subject becomes its own educator. If then it be conceded that the essence of education is to interest, does it not seem a soberly practical purpose that we should open up to the whole nation without exception an interest in intellectual pursuits?

I take my stand on the broad moral ground that every human being, from the highest to the lowest, has two sides to his life—his work and his leisure. To be without work in life is selfishness and sloth. But if a man or woman is so entangled in routine duties as never to command leisure, we have a right to say to such persons that they are leading an immoral life. Such an individual has no claim to the title of a working man, he is a slave. It may be cruel circumstances that have thus absorbed him in business, but that does not alter the fact: slavery was a misfortune rather than a fault to those who suffered it, but in any case to be content with slavery is a crime. Once get society to recognize the duty of leisure, and there is immediately a scope for such institutions as University Extension that exist for the purpose of giving intellectual interests for such leisure time. The movement is thus one of the greatest movements for the 'raising of the masses.' With a large section of the people there is, at the present moment, no conception of 'rising' in life, except that of rising out of one social rank into another. This last is of course a perfectly legitimate ambition, but it is outside the present discussion: University Extension knows nothing of social distinctions. It has to do with a far more important mode of 'rising' in life,—that of rising in the rank to which a man happens to belong at the moment, whether it be the rank in which he started or any other. There is a saying that all men are equal after dinner: and it is true that, while in the material wealth we seek in our working hours equality is a chimera, yet in the intellectual pursuits that belong to leisure there is no bar to the equality of all, except the difference of individual capacity and desire. Macaulay tells of the Dutch farmers who worked in the fields all day, and at night read the Georgics in the original. Scotch and American universities are largely attended by students who have had to engage in menial duties all the summer in order to gain funds for their high education during the winter. And every University Extension lecturer, highly trained specialist as he is, will testify how his work has continually brought him into contact with persons of the humblest social condition whom a moment's conversation has made him recognize as his intellectual equals. No one has any difficulty in understanding that in religious intercourse and experience all classes stand upon an equality; and I have spoken of the foundation for the University Extension movement as being the growing recognition of education as a permanent human interest akin to religion. The experience of a few years has sufficiently demonstrated the possibility of arousing such interest: to make it universal is no more than a practical question of time, money and methods.

But no doubt when we come to modus operandi the main difficulty of the movement is the diversity of the classes it seeks to approach—diversity in individual capacity, in leisure, means, and previous training. Opposite policies have been urged upon us. Some have said: Whatever you do, you must never lower the standard; let the Extension movement present outside the universities precisely the same education as the universities themselves are giving, however long you may have to wait for its acceptance. On the other hand, it has been urged: You must go first where you are most needed; be content with a makeshift education until the people are ready for something better. The movement has accepted neither of these policies, but has made a distinction between two elements of university training—method and curriculum. So far as method is concerned we have considered that we are bound to be not less thorough, but more thorough, if possible, than the universities themselves, in proportion as our clients work under peculiar difficulties. But in the matter of curriculum we have felt it our first duty to be elastic, and to offer little or much as may in each case be desired. Accordingly, we have elaborated an educational unit—the three months' course of instruction in a single subject: this unit course we have used all the resources we could command for making as thorough in method as possible; where more than this is desired, we arrange that more in a combination or series of such unit courses. The instruction can thus be taken by retail or wholesale: but in all cases it, must be administered on the same rigorous method.

The key to the whole system is thus the unit course of three months' instruction in a single subject. The method of such a course is conveyed by the technical terms lecture, syllabus, exercises, class. The lectures are addressed to audiences as miscellaneous as the congregation of a church, or the people in a street car; and it is the duty of the teacher to attract such miscellaneous audiences, as well as to hold and instruct them. Those who do nothing more than simply attend the lectures will at least have gained the education of continuous interest; it is something to have one's attention kept upon the same subject for three months together. But it may be assumed that in every such audience there will be a nucleus of students, by which term we simply mean persons willing to do some work between one lecture and another. The lectures are delivered no oftener than once a week; for the idea is not that the lectures convey the actual instruction—great part of which is better obtained from books, but the office of the lecture is to throw into prominence the salient points of the study, and rouse the hearers to read, for themselves. The course of instruction is laid down in the syllabus—a document of perhaps thirty or forty pages, sold for a trifling sum; by referring for details to the pages of books this pamphlet can be made to serve as a text-book for the whole course, making the teacher independent in his order of exposition of any other text-book. The syllabus assists the general audience in following the lectures without the distraction of taking notes; and guides the reading and thinking of the students during the week. The syllabus contains a set of 'exercises' on each lecture. These exercises, unlike examination questions or 'quizzes,' are not tests of memory, but are intended to train the student to work for himself; they are thus to be done under the freest conditions—at home, with full leisure, and all possible access to books, notes or help from other persons. The written answers are sent to the lecturer for marginal comment, and returned by him at the 'class.' This class is a second meeting for students and others, at which no formal lecture is given, but there is free talk on points suggested to the teacher by the exercises he has received: the usual experience is that it is more interesting than the lecture. This weekly routine of lecture, syllabus-reading, exercise and class goes on for a period of twelve weeks. There is then an 'examination' in the work of the course held for students who desire to take it. Certificates are given by the university, but it is an important arrangement that these certificates are awarded jointly on the result of the weekly exercises and the final examination.

The subjects treated have been determined by the demand. Literature stands at the head in popularity, history with economy is but little behind. All the physical sciences have been freely asked for. Art constitutes a department of work; but it is art-appreciation, not art-production; the movement has no function to train artists, but to make audiences and visitors to art-galleries more intelligent. It will be observed that the great study known as 'Classics' is not mentioned in this list. But it is an instructive fact that a considerable number of the courses in literature have been on subjects of Greek and Latin literature treated in English, and some of these have been at once the most successful in numbers and the most technical in treatment. I am not without hope that our English University Extension may react upon our English universities, and correct the vicious conception of classical studies which gives to the great mass of university men a more or less scholarly hold upon ancient languages without any interest whatever in ancient literatures.

This university extension method claims to be an advance on existing systems partly because under no circumstances does it ever give lectures unaccompanied by a regular plan of reading and exercises for students. These exercises moreover are designed, not for mental drill, but for stimulus to original work. The association of students with a general audience is a gain to both parties. Many persons follow regularly the instruction of the class who have not participated in the exercises. Moreover, the students, by their connection with the popular audience, are saved from the academic bias which is the besetting sin of teachers: more human interest is drawn into the study. The same effect follows from the miscellaneous character of the students who contribute exercises. High university graduates, experts in special pursuits, deeply cultured individuals who have never before had any field in which to exhibit the fruits of their culture, as well as persons whose spelling and writing would pass muster nowhere else, or casual visitors from the world of business, or young men and women fresh from school, or even children writing in round text,—all these classes may be represented in a single week's work; and the papers sent in will vary in elaborateness from a scrawl on a post-card to a magazine article or treatise. I have received an exercise of such a character that the student considerately furnished me with an index; I remember one longer still, but as this hailed from a lunatic asylum I will quote it only for illustrating the diversity of the spheres reached by the movement. Study participated in by such diverse classes cannot but have an all-roundness which is to teachers and students one of the main attractions of the movement.

But we shall be expected to judge our system by results: and, so far as the unit courses are concerned, we have every reason to be satisfied. Very few persons fail in our final examinations, and yet examiners report that the standard in university extension is substantially the same as that in the universities—our pass students being on a par with pass men in the universities, our students of 'distinction' reaching the standard of honors schools. Personally I attach high importance to results which can never be expressed in statistics. We are in a position to assert that a successful course perceptibly influences the tone of a locality for the period it lasts: librarians volunteer reports of an entirely changed demand for books, and we have even assurances that the character of conversation at 'five o'clock teas' has undergone marked alteration. I may be permitted an anecdote illustrating the impression made upon the universities themselves. I once heard a brilliant university lecturer, who had had occasional experience of extension teaching, describe a course of investigation which had interested him. With an eye to business I asked him if he would not give it in an extension course. He became grave. "Well, no," he replied, "I have not thought it out sufficiently for that;" and when he saw my look of surprise he added, "You know, anything goes down in college; but when I have to face your mature classes I must know my ground well." I believe the impression thus suggested is not uncommon amongst experts who really know the movement.

Our results are much less satisfactory when we turn to the other side of our system, and enquire as to curriculum. It must be admitted that the larger part of our local centres can only take unit courses; there may be often a considerable interval between one course and another; or where courses are taken regularly the necessity of meeting popular interest involves a distracting variety of subjects; while an appreciable portion of our energies have to be taken up with preliminary half-courses, rather intended to illustrate the working of the movement than as possessing any high educational value. The most important advance from the unit course is the Affiliation system of Cambridge university. By this a town that becomes regularly affiliated, has arranged for it a series of unit courses, put together upon proper sequence of educational topics, and covering some three or four years: students satisfying the lecturers and examiners in this extended course are recognized as 'Students affiliated' (S.A.), and can at any time enter the university with the status of second year's men,—the local work being accepted in place of one year's residence and study. Apart from this, the steps in our educational ladder other than the first are still in the stage of prophecy. But it is universally recognized that this drawback is a matter solely of funds: once let the movement command endowment and the localities will certainly demand the wider curriculum that the universities are only too anxious to supply.

The third point in our definition was that the movement was to be organized on a basis of itinerant teachers. This differentiates University Extension from local colleges, from correspondence teaching, and from the systems of which Chautauqua is the type. The chief function of a university is to teach, and University Extension must stand or fall with its teachers. It may or may not be desirable on other grounds to multiply universities; but there is no necessity for it on grounds of popular education, the itinerancy being a sufficient means of bringing any university into touch with the people as a whole. And the adoption of such a system seems to be a natural step in the evolution of universities. In the middle ages the whole body of those who sought a liberal education were to be found crowded into the limits of university towns, where alone were teachers to listen to and manuscripts to copy: the population of such university centres then numbered hundreds where to-day it numbers tens. The first university extension was the invention of printing, which sent the books itinerating through the country, and reduced to a fraction the actual attendance at the university, while it vastly increased the circle of the educated. The time has now come to send teachers to follow the books: the ideas of the university being circulated through the country as a whole, while residence at a university is reserved as the apex only of the university system.

An itinerancy implies central and local management, and travelling lecturers who connect the two. The central management is a university, or its equivalent; this is responsible for the educational side of the movement, and negotiates for the supply of its courses of instruction at a fixed price per course.[53] The local management may be in the hands of a committee formed for the purpose, or of some local institution—such as a scientific or literary club or institute—which may care to connect itself with the universities. On the local management devolves the raising funds for the university fee, and for local expenses, as well as the duty of putting the advantages of the course offered before the local community. The widest diversity of practice prevails in reference to modes of raising funds. A considerable part of the cost will be met by the tickets of those attending the lectures, the prices of which I have known to vary from a shilling to a guinea for the unit course, while admission to single lectures has varied from a penny to half a crown. But all experience goes to show that only a part of this cost can be met in this way; individual courses may bring in a handsome profit, but taking account over various terms and various districts, we find that not more than two-thirds of the total cost will be covered by ticket money. And even this is estimated on the assumption that no more than the unit course is aimed at: while even for this the choice of subjects, and the chance of continuity of subject from term to term are seriously limited by the consideration of meeting cost as far as possible from fees. University Extension is a system of higher education, and higher education has no market value, but needs the help of endowment. But the present age is no way behind past ages in the number of generous citizens it exhibits as ready to help good causes. The millionaire who will take up University Extension will leave a greater mark on the history of his country than even the pious founder of university scholarships and chairs. And even if individuals fail us, we have the common purse of the public or the nation to fall back upon.

The itinerant lecturers, not less than the university and the local management, have responsibility for the progress of the cause. An extension lecturer must be something more than a good teacher, something more even than an attractive lecturer: he must be imbued with the ideas of the movement, and ever on the watch for opportunities of putting them forward. It is only the lecturer who can maintain in audiences the feeling that they are not simply receiving entertainment or instruction which they have paid for, but that they are taking part in a public work, and are responsible for giving their locality a worthy place in a national scheme of university education. The lecturer again must mediate between the local and the central management, always ready to assist local committees with suggestions from the experience of other places, and equally attentive to bringing the special wants of different centres before the university authorities. The movement is essentially a teaching movement, and it is to the body of teachers I look for the discovery of the further steps in the development of popular education. For such a purpose lecturers and directors alike must be imbued with the missionary spirit. For University Extension is a missionary university, not content with supplying culture, but seeking to stimulate the demand for it. This is just the point in which education in the past has shown badly in comparison with religion or politics. When a man is touched with religious ideas he seeks to make converts, when he has views on political questions he agitates to make his views prevail: culture on the other hand has been only too often cherished as a badge of exclusiveness, instead of the very consciousness of superior education being felt as a responsibility which could only be satisfied by efforts to educate others. To infuse a missionary spirit into culture is not the least purpose of University Extension.

I cannot resist the temptation to carry forward this thought from the present into the future. In University Extension so described may we not see a germ for the University of the Future? I have made the foundation of our movement the growing conception of education as a permanent interest of adult life side by side with religion and politics. The change is at best only beginning; it tasks the imagination to conceive all it will imply when it is complete. To me it appears that this expanding view of education is the third of the three great waves of change the succession of which has made up our modern history. There was a time when religion itself was identified with a particular class, the clergy alone thinking out what the rest of the nation simply accepted; then came the series of revolutions popularly summed up as the Reformation, by which the whole adult nation claimed to think for itself in matters of religion, and the special profession of the clergy became no more than a single element in the religious life of the nation. Again, there has been in the past a distinct governing class, to which the rest of society submitted; until a series of political revolutions lifted the whole adult population into self-government, using the services of political experts, but making public progress the interest of all. Before the more quiet changes of the present age the conception of an isolated learned class is giving way before the ideal of a national culture, in which universities will still be centres for educational experts, while University Extension offers liberal education to all, until educationally the whole adult population will be just as much within the university as politically the adult population is within the constitution. It would appear then that the university of such a future would be by no means a repetition of existing types, such as Oxford or Cambridge, Harvard or Johns Hopkins. These institutions would exist and be more flourishing than ever, but they would all be merged in a wider 'University of England,' or 'University of America'; and, just as the state means the whole nation acting in its political capacity through municipal or national institutions, so the university would mean the whole adult nation acting in its educational capacity through whatever institutions might be found desirable. Such a university would never be chartered; no building could ever house it; no royal personage or president of the United States would ever be asked to inaugurate it; the very attempt to found it would imply misconception of its essential character. It would be no more than a floating aggregation of voluntary associations; like the companies of which a nation's commerce is made up such associations would not be organized, but would simply tend to cooeperate because of their common object. Each association would have its local and its central side, formed for the purpose of mediating between the wants of a locality and the educational supply offered by universities or similar central institutions. No doubt such a scheme is widely different from the ideal education of European countries, so highly organized from above that the minister of education can look at his watch and know at any moment all that is being done throughout the country. On the contrary the genius of the Anglo-Saxon race leans towards self-help; it has been the mission of the race in the past to develop self-government in religion and politics, it remains to crown this work with the application of the voluntary system to liberal education.

In indulging this piece of speculation I have had a practical purpose before me. If what I have described be a reasonable forecast for the University of the Future, does it not follow that University Extension, as the germ of it, presents a field for the very highest academic ambition? To my mind it appears that existing types of university have reached a point where further development in the same direction would mean decline. In English universities the ideal is 'scholarship.' Scholarship is a good thing, and we produce it. But the system which turns out a few good scholars every year passes over the heads of the great mass of university students without having awakened them to any intellectual life; the universities are scholarship-factories producing good articles but with a terrible waste of raw material. The other main type of university enthrones 'research' as its summum bonum. Possibly research is as good a purpose as a man can set before him, but it is not the sole aim in life. And when one contemplates the band of recruits added each year to the army of investigators, and the choice of ever minuter fields—not to say lanes and alleys—of research, one is led to doubt whether research is not one of the disintegrating forces of society, and whether ever increasing specialisation must not mean a perpetual narrowing of human sympathies in the intellectual leaders of mankind. Both types of university appear to me to present the phenomena of a country suffering from the effects of overproduction, where the energies of workers had been concentrated upon adding to the sum of wealth, and all too little attention had been given to the distribution of that wealth through the different ranks of the community. Just at this point the University Extension movement appears to recall academic energy from production to distribution; suggesting that devotion to physics, economics, art, can be just as truly shown by raising new classes of the people to an interest in physical and economic and aesthetic pursuits, as by adding to the discoveries of science, or increasing the mass of art products. To the young graduate, conscious that he has fairly mastered the teaching of the past, and that he has within him powers to make advances, I would suggest the question whether, even for the highest powers, there is any worthier field than to work through University Extension towards the University of the Future.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 53: The Cambridge fee is L45 per course of three months.]

THE END